


Maybe Some Day

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Gen, POV First Person, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not as easy as it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Some Day

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episode 2.07.

I feel him watching me, all the time. A silent appeal for something I’m not sure I’m ready to give him. No matter how much I might want to.

On the surface everything appears normal. But we’re not fooling anyone, and we’re certainly not fooling ourselves. We are broken, and while he was the one who did the breaking, it is up to me to do the fixing.

It’s not that easy, though. It’s not like a broken cup, to be mended with a steady hand and a few dabs of glue. It’s much more complicated than that, and I don’t have a clue where, or how, to start.

So things stay the same. He is watching me, and I am wondering what to do next. It’s like a limbo of guilt and recrimination, a swirling vortex of apologies and blame that we can’t escape from.

We still function. I still lead and he still follows. We still cooperate in the face of prehistoric, scientifically unknown adversity. Although, as time goes on, I begin to notice that cooperation fraying around the edges. He seems less willing to follow than before, and I know that this is _my_ fault. I still trust him with my life, but no longer with my friendship, my ideas, my fears, my worries. And he knows that I am not telling him things, and suddenly this broken thing that was us is harder to fix than ever.

Now we are a farce of play-acting – scrupulously polite, brittle and cold, until one day he is suddenly with her, and I am hot and furious, and now there is no going back.

He left, and then he was back again, still with her, but less sure now.  Less certain about who is right and who is wrong. Still wanting to believe her, but still wanting to fix us too.

And then, with no warning, he is gone again, in trying to mend things breaking _everything_ beyond repair. And I know now that I should have tried harder. Would it really have been that difficult, after all? To say the words “I forgive you,” and mean them?

No, I realise, it wouldn’t.

But now it is too late.


End file.
